This treatise was extant in the 14th century. A copy had been presented to Petrarch, from his vast collection of books, by Raymond Soranzo, a Sicilian lawyer477. Petrarch long preserved this precious volume with great care, and valued it highly. Unfortunately a man called Convenoli, who resided at Avignon, and who had formerly been his preceptor, begged and obtained the loan of it; and having afterwards fallen into indigent circumstances, pawned it for the relief of his necessities, to some unknown person, from whom Petrarch never [pg 277]could regain its possession. Two copies, however, were still extant in the subsequent century, one in a private library at Nuremburg, and another in that of a Venetian nobleman, Bernard Giustiniani, who, dying in 1489, bequeathed his books to a monastery of nuns, to whom Petrus Alcyonius was physician. Filelfo was accused, though on no good foundation, of having burned the Nuremburg copy, after inserting passages from it in his treatise De Contemptu Mundi478. But the charge of destroying the original MS. left by Giustiniani to the nuns, has been urged against Alcyonius on better grounds, and with more success. Paulus Manutius, of whose printing-press Alcyonius had been at one time corrector, charged him with having availed himself of his free access to the library of the nuns, whose physician he was, to purloin the treatise De Gloria, and with having destroyed it, to conceal his plagiarisms, after inserting from it various passages in his dialogue De Exilio479. The assertion of Manutius is founded only on the disappearance of the MS.,—the opportunities possessed by Alcyonius of appropriating it, and his own critical opinion of the dialogue De Exilio, in which he conceives that there are many passages composed in a style evincing a writer of talents, far superior to those of its nominal author. This accusation was repeated by Paulus Jovius and others480. Mencken, in the preface to his edition of the dialogue De Exilio, has maintained the innocence of Alcyonius, and has related a conversation which he had with Bentley on the subject, in the course of which that great scholar declared, that he found nothing in the work of Alcyonius which could convict him of the imputed plagiarism481. He has been defended at greater length by Tiraboschi, on the strong grounds that Giustiniani lived after the invention of printing, and that had he actually been in possession of Cicero’s treatise De Gloriâ, he would doubtless have published it—that it is not said to what monastery of nuns Giustiniani bequeathed this precious MS.—that the charge against Alcyonius was not advanced till after his death, although his dialogue De Exilio was first printed in 1522, and he survived till 1527; and, finally, that so great a proportion of it relates to modern events, that there are not more than a few pages which could possibly have been pilfered from Cicero, or any writer of his age482. M. Bernardi, in a [pg 278]dissertation subjoined to a work above mentioned, De la Republique, has revived the accusation, at least to a certain extent, by quoting various passages from the work of Alcyonius, which are not well connected with the others, and which, being of a superior order of composition, may be conjectured to be those he had detached from the treatises of Cicero. On the whole, the question of the theft and plagiarism of Alcyonius still remains undecided, and will probably continue so till the discovery of some perfect copy of the tract De Gloriâ—an event rather to be earnestly desired than reasonably anticipated.
A fourth lost work of Cicero, is his Hortensius sive de Philosophia. Besides the orator after whom it is named, Catulus, Lucullus, and Cicero himself, were speakers in the dialogue. In the first part, where Hortensius discourses, it was intended to exalt eloquence above philosophy. To his arguments Cicero replied, showing the service that philosophy rendered to eloquence, even in an imperfect state of the social progress, and its superior use in an improved condition of society, in which there should be no wrong, and consequently no tribunals of justice. All this appears from the account given of the Hortensius by St Augustine, who has also quoted from it many beautiful passages—declaring, at the same time, that it was the perusal of this work which first inspired him with a love of wisdom.—“Viluit mihi repente omnis vana spes, et immortalitatem sapientiæ concupiscebam æstu cordis incredibili483.” This dialogue continued to be preserved for a long period after the time of St Augustine, since it is cited as extant in his own age by the famous Roger Bacon484.
It was not till after the æra of Augustus, that works originally destined for the public assumed the name and form of letters. But several collections of epistles, written, during the period on which we are now engaged, to relatives or friends in private confidence, were afterwards extensively circulated. Those of Cornelia, the daughter of the elder Scipio Africanus, and mother of the Gracchi, addressed chiefly to her sons, were much celebrated; but the most ample collection now extant, is that of the Letters of Cicero.
These may be divided into four parts,—1. The Epistolæ Familiares, or Miscellaneous Correspondence; 2. Those to Atticus; 3. To his brother Quintus; 4. To Brutus.
The correspondence, usually entitled Ad Familiares, in[pg 279]cludes a period of about twenty years, commencing immediately after Cicero’s consulate, and ending a few months before his death. The letters which this collection comprehends, are so extremely miscellaneous, that it is impossible even to run over their contents. Previous to the battle of Pharsalia, it chiefly consists of epistles concerning the distribution of consular provinces, and the political intrigues relating to that constantly recurring subject of contention,—recommendatory letters sent with acquaintances going into the provinces—details to absent friends, with regard to the state of parties at Rome, particularly the designs of Pompey and Cæsar, and the factions of Milo and Clodius; and, finally, entertaining anecdotes concerning the most popular and fashionable amusements of the Capital.
Subsequently to the battle of Pharsalia, and during the supremacy of Cæsar, the letters are principally addressed to the chiefs of the Pompeian party, who were at that time in banishment for their adherence to the same cause in which Cicero had been himself engaged. These epistles are chiefly occupied with consolatory reflections on the adverse circumstances in which they were placed, and accounts of his own exertions to obtain their recall. In the perusal of these letters, it is painful and humiliating to observe the gratification which Cicero evidently appears to have received at this period, from the attentions, not merely of Cæsar, but of his creatures and favourites, as Balbus, Hirtius, and Pansa.
After the assassination of Cæsar, the correspondence for the most part relates to the affairs of the Republic, and is directed to the heads of the conspiracy, or to leading men in the state, as Lepidus and Asinius Pollio, who were then in the command of armies, and whom he anxiously exhorts to declare for the commonwealth, and stand forward in opposition to Antony.
There are a good many letters inserted in this collection, addressed to Cicero by his friends. The greatest number are from his old client Cælius, who appears to have been an admirable gossip. They are written to Cicero, during his absence from Rome, in his government of Cilicia, and give him news of party politics—intelligence of remarkable cases tried in the Forum—and of the fashionable scandal of the day. The great object of Cælius seems to have been to obtain in return, the dedication of one of Cicero’s works, and a cargo of panthers from Asia, for his exhibition of games to the Roman people. Towards the conclusion, there are a good many letters from generals, who were at the head of armies in the provinces at the death of Cæsar, and continued their command during the war which the Senate waged against Antony. All of them, [pg 280]but particularly Asinius Pollio, and Lepidus, appear to have acted with consummate treachery and dissimulation towards Cicero and the Senate. On the whole, though the Epistolæ Familiares were private letters, and though some private affairs are treated of in them, they chiefly relate to public concerns, comprehending, in particular, a very full history of Cicero’s government in Cilicia, the civil dissensions of Rome, and the war between Pompey and Cæsar. Seldom, however, do they display any flashes of that eloquence with which the orator was so richly endued; and no transaction, however important, elevated his style above the level of ordinary conversation.
The Epistolæ ad Atticum, are also of great service for the History of Rome. “Whoever,” says Cornelius Nepos, “reads these letters of Cicero, will not want for a connected history of the times. So well does he describe the views of the leading men, the faults of generals, and the changes of parties in the state, that nothing is wanting for our information; and such was his sagacity, we are almost led to believe that it was a kind of divination; for Cicero not only foretold what afterwards happened in his own lifetime, but, like a prophet, predicted events which are now come to pass485.” Along with this knowledge, we obtain more insight into Cicero’s private character, than from the former series of letters, where he is often disguised in the political mask of the great theatre on which he acted, and where many of his defects are concealed under the graceful folds of the toga. It was to Atticus that he most freely unbosomed his thoughts—more completely than even to Tullia, Terentia, or Tiro. Hence, while he evinces in these letters much affection for his family—ardent zeal for the interests of his friends—strong feelings of humanity and justice—warm gratitude to his benefactors, and devoted love to his country, he has not repressed his vanity, or concealed the faults of a mental organization too susceptible of every impression. His sensibility, indeed, was such, that it led him to think his misfortunes were peculiarly distinguished from those of all other men, and that neither himself nor the world could ever sufficiently deplore them: hence the querulous and plaintive tone which pervades the whole correspondence, and which, in the letters written during his exile, resembles more the wailings of the Tristia of Ovid, than what might be expected from the first statesman, orator, and philosopher of the Roman Republic. In every page of them, too, we see traces of his inconsistencies and irresolution—his political, if not his [pg 281]personal timidity—his rash confidence in prosperity, his alarm in danger, his despondence in adversity—his too nice jealousies and delicate suspicions—his proneness to offence, and his unresisting compliance with those who had gained him by flattery, and hypocritical professions of attachment to the commonwealth. Atticus, it is clear, was a bad adviser for his fame, and perhaps for his ultimate safety; and to him may be in a great measure attributed that compromising conduct which has detracted so much from the dignity of his character. “You succeeded,” says Cicero, speaking of Cæsar and Pompey, “in persuading me to keep well with the one, because he had rendered me services, and with the other, because he possessed great power486.” Again, “I followed your advice so punctually, that neither of them had a favourite beyond myself;” and after the war had actually broken out, “I take it very kind that you, in so friendly a manner, advise me to declare as little as possible for either party487.” Such fatal counsels, it is evident, accorded too well with his own inclinations, and palliated, perhaps, to himself the weaknesses to which he gave way. These weaknesses of Cicero it would, indeed, be in vain to deny; but his feelings are little to be envied who can think of them without regret, or speak of them without indulgence.
It is these letters, however, which have handed down the remembrance of Atticus to posterity, and have rendered his name almost as universally known as that of his illustrious correspondent. “Nomen Attici perire,” says Seneca, “Ciceronis Epistolæ non sinunt. Nihil illi profuissent gener Agrippa, et Tiberius progener, et Drusus Cæsar pronepos. Inter tam magna nomina taceretur nisi Cicero illum applicuisset.”
Perhaps the most interesting correspondence of Cicero is that with his brother Quintus, who was some years younger than the orator. He attained the dignity of Prætor in 693, and afterwards held a government in Asia as Pro-prætor for four years. He returned to Rome at the moment in which his brother was driven into exile; and for some time afterwards, was chiefly employed in exerting himself to obtain his recall. As Cæsar’s lieutenant, he served with credit in Gaul; but espoused the republican party at the breaking out of the civil war. He was pardoned, however, by Cæsar, and was slain by the blood-thirsty triumvirate established after his death. Quintus was a man of warm affections, and of some military talents, but of impatient and irritable temper. The orator [pg 282]had evidently a high opinion of his qualifications, and has introduced him as an interlocutor in the dialogues De Legibus and De Divinatione.
The correspondence with Quintus is divided into three books. The first letter in the collection, is one of the noblest productions of the kind which has ever been penned. It is addressed to Quintus on occasion of his government in Asia being prolonged for a third year. Availing himself of the rights of an elder brother, as well as of the authority derived from his superior dignity and talents, Cicero counsels and exhorts his brother concerning the due administration of his province, particularly with regard to the choice of his subordinate officers, and the degree of trust to be reposed in them. He earnestly reproves him, but with much fraternal tenderness and affection, for his proneness to resentment; and he concludes with a beautiful exhortation, to strive in all respects to merit the praise of his contemporaries, and bequeath to posterity an untainted name. The second letter transmits to Quintus an account of some complaints which Cicero had heard in Rome, with regard to his brother’s conduct in the administration of his government. The two following epistles, which conclude the first book, are written from Thessalonica, in the commencement of his exile. The first of these, beginning, “Mi frater, mi frater, mi frater,” written in a sad state of agitation and depression, is a fine specimen of eloquent and pathetic expostulation. It is full of strong and almost unbounded expressions of attachment, and exhibits much of that exaggeration, both in sentiment and language, in which Cicero indulged so frequently in his orations.
The second and third books of letters, addressed to his brother in Sardinia and Gaul, give an interesting account of the state of public affairs during the years 697, 698, and part of 699, as also of his subsisting domestic relations during the same period.
Along with his letters to Quintus, there is usually printed an epistle or memoir, which Quintus addressed to his brother when he stood candidate for the consulship, and which is entitled De Petitione Consulatûs. It gives advice with regard to the measures he should pursue to attain his object, particularly inculcating the best means to gain private friends, and acquire general popularity. But though professedly drawn up merely for the use of his brother, it appears to have been intended by the author as a guide, or manual, for all who might be placed in similar circumstances. It is written with considerable elegance, and perfect purity of style, and forms an important document for the history of the Roman republic, as it affords [pg 283]us a clearer insight than we can derive from any other work now extant, into the intrigues resorted to by the heads of parties to gain the suffrages of the people.
The authenticity of the Correspondence between Cicero and Brutus, has formed the subject of a literary controversy, perhaps the most celebrated which has ever occurred, except that concerning the Epistles of Phalaris.
It is quite ascertained, that a correspondence had been carried on between Cicero and Brutus; and a collection of the letters which had passed between them, extending to not less than eight books, existed for several ages after Cicero’s death. They were all written during the period which elapsed from the assassination of Cæsar to the tragical end of the orator, which comprehended about a year and a half; and it appears from the fragments of them, cited by Plutarch and the grammarians, that they chiefly related to the memorable political events of that important interval, and to a literary controversy which subsisted between Cicero and Brutus, with regard to the attributes of perfect eloquence488.
This collection is mentioned, and passages cited from it, by Quintilian, Plutarch, and even Nonius Marcellus489, who lived about the year 400. After this, all trace of it is lost, till, in the fourteenth century, we find some of the disputed letters in the possession of Petrarch; and it has been conjectured that Petrarch himself was the discoverer of them490. Eighteen of these letters, which were all that were then known, were published at Rome in 1470. Many years afterwards, five more, but in a mutilated state, were found in Germany, and these, in all subsequent editions, were printed along with the original eighteen. All the letters relate to the situation of public affairs after the death of Cæsar. They contain a good deal of recrimination: Brutus blaming Cicero for his dangerous elevation of Octavius, and conferring honours on him too profusely; Cicero censuring Brutus for having spared the life of Antony at the time of the conspiracy.
Now the point in dispute is, If these twenty-three letters be parts of the original eight books of the genuine correspondence of Cicero and Brutus, so often cited by Plutarch, Quintilian, and Nonius; or if they be the forgery of some monk or [pg 284]sophist, during the dark ages which elapsed between the time of Nonius and Petrarch.
From their very first appearance, the eighteen letters, which had come into the possession of Petrarch, passed among the learned for original epistles of Cicero and Brutus; and the five discovered in Germany, though doubted for a while, were soon received into the same rank with the others. Erasmus seems to have been the first who suspected the whole to be the declamatory composition of some rhetorician or sophist. They continued, however, to be cited by every other commentator, critic, and historian, as the unquestionable remains of the great author to whom they were ascribed. Middleton, in particular, in his Life of Cicero, freely referred to them as biographical authorities, along with the Familiar Epistles, and those to Atticus.
Matters were in this situation, when Tunstall, in 1741, addressed a Latin Epistle to Middleton, written professedly to introduce a proposal for a new edition of Cicero’s letters to Atticus, and his brother Quintus. In the first part of this epistle, he attempted to retrieve the original readings of these authentic treasures of Ciceronian history, and asserted their genuine sense against the corruptions or false interpretations of them, which had led to many erroneous conclusions in Middleton’s Life of Cicero. In the second part, he denies the authenticity of the whole correspondence between Cicero and Brutus, which he alleges is the production of some sophist or scholiast of the middle ages, who probably wrote them, according to the practice of those days, as an exercise for his rhetorical talents, and with the view either of drawing up a supplement to the Epistles to Atticus, so as to carry on the history from the period at which they terminate, or to vindicate Cicero’s character from the imputation of rashness, in throwing too much power into the hands of Octavius. Tunstall farther thinks, that the leading subject of these letters was suggested to the sophist by a passage in Plutarch’s Life of Brutus, where it is mentioned that Brutus had remonstrated with Cicero, and complained of him to their mutual friend Atticus, for the court he paid to Octavius, which showed that his aim was not to procure liberty for his country, but a kind master to himself.
Middleton soon afterwards published an English translation of the whole correspondence between Brutus and Cicero, with notes; and, in a prefatory dissertation, written with considerable and unprovoked asperity, he attempted to vindicate the authority of the epistles, and to answer the objections of Tunstall. His adversary replied in an immense English work, of [pg 285]more than 400 pages, entitled, “Observations on the present Collection of Epistles between Cicero and Brutus, representing several evident marks of Forgery in those Epistles, in answer to the late pretences of Dr Middleton: 1744.”
It is difficult to give any sketch of the argumentative part of this famed controversy, as the merit of all such discussion consists in the extreme accuracy and minuteness of investigation. The main scope, however, of the objections, is thus generally exhibited by Tunstall in his Latin epistle. He declares, “that as he came fresh from the perusal of Cicero’s genuine letters, he perceived that those to Brutus wanted the beauty and copiousness of the Ciceronian diction—that the epistles, both of Brutus and Cicero, were drawn in the same style and manner of colouring, and trimmed up with so much art and diligence, that they seemed to proceed rather from scholastic subtlety and meditation, than from the genuine acts and affairs of life—that when, both before and after the date of the letters to Atticus, several epistles had been addressed from Brutus to Cicero, and from Cicero to Brutus, it was strange that those which preceded the letters to Atticus should have been lost, and those alone remain which appear to have been industriously designed for an epilogue to the Epistles to Atticus—that such reasons induced him to suspect, but on looking farther into the letters themselves, he discovered many absurdities in the sense, many improprieties in the language, many remarkable predictions of future events, both on Brutus’s side and Cicero’s; but what was most material, a great number of historical facts, not only quite new, but wholly altered, and some even apparently false, and contradictory to the genuine works of Cicero.”
Such was the state of the controversy, as it stood between Tunstall and Middleton. In 1745, the year after Middleton had published his translation of the epistles, Markland engaged in this literary contest, and came forward in opposition to the authenticity of the letters, by publishing his “Remarks on the Epistles of Cicero to Brutus, and of Brutus to Cicero, in a Letter to a Friend.” The arguments of Tunstall had chiefly turned on historical inconsistencies—those of Markland principally hinge on phrases to be found in the letters, which are not Ciceronian, or even of pure Latinity.
I must here close this long account of the writings of Cicero—of Cicero, distinguished as the Consul of the republic—as the father and saviour of his country—but not less distinguished as the orator, philosopher, and moralist of Rome.—“Salve primus omnium Parens Patriæ appellate,—primus in togâ triumphum linguæque lauream merite, et facundiæ, Latiarumque [pg 286]Literarum parens: atque (ut Dictator Cæsar, hostis quondam tuus, de te scripsit,) omnium triumphorum lauream adopte majorem; quanto plus est, ingenii Romani terminos in tantum promovisse, quàm imperii491.”
In the former volume of this work, I had traced the progress of the language of the Romans, and treated of the different poets by whom it was adorned till the era of Augustus. I had chiefly occasion, in the course of that part of my inquiry, to compare the poetical productions of Rome with those of Greece, and to show that the Latin poetry of this early age, being modelled on that of Athens or Alexandria, had acquired an air of preparation and authorship, and appeared to have been written to obtain the cold approbation of the public, or smiles of a Patrician patron, while the native lines of the Grecian bards seem to be poured fourth like the Delphic oracles, because the god which inspired them was too great to be contained within the bosom. In the prose compositions of the Romans, which have been considered in the present volume, though the exemplaria Græca were still the models of style, we have not observed the same servility of imitation. The agricultural writers of Latium treated of a subject in a great measure foreign to the maritime feelings and commercial occupations of the Greeks; while, in the Latin historians, orators, and philosophers, we listen to a tone of practical utility, derived from the familiar acquaintance which their authors exercised with the affairs of life. The old Latin historians were for the most part themselves engaged in the affairs they related, and almost every oration of Cicero was actually delivered in the Senate or Forum. Among the Romans, philosophy was not, as it had been with many of the Greeks, an academic dream or speculation, which was substituted for the realities of life. In Rome, philosophic inquiries were chiefly prosecuted as supplying arguments and illustrations to the patron for his conflicts in the Forum, and as guiding the citizen in the discharge of his duties to the commonwealth. Those studies, in short, alone were valued, which, as it is beautifully expressed by Cicero, in the person of Lælius—“Efficiant ut usui civitati simus: id enim esse præclarissimum sapientiæ munus, maximumque virtutis documentum puto.”